


The Sound of Silence

by jimmoriartyisthebestboss



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimmoriartyisthebestboss/pseuds/jimmoriartyisthebestboss
Summary: Shuri has finally managed to free Bucky's mind of the brain washing that he has endured. However, the brain is complicated and his memories are fragmented. Some days he is quiet and other he rages. Steve tries to support him however he can and jog his memory. Sometimes the most unlikely things brings back old memories.





	The Sound of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from this amazing piece of work that I saw on Pinterest but also tracked down on Deviantart. You can see it [here.](https://www.deviantart.com/wuliao-yuzi/art/Vivid-again-in-English-452273278) It instantly inspired me and if you want to save it on Pinterest you can find it [here.](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/315111305170715225/)  
> 
> 
> I find that I do like to write a lot of fluff with Steve and Bucky but this one I had to do some angst. It's important to me to show that both are affected by what happened and what they have done in both war and afterwards.  
> 
> 
> The title is taken from the cover of The Sound of Silence by Disturbed.  
> 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

Watching Bucky move through the world in a haze was like watching his own heart being ripped out. Yet, every day, Steve watched him. There were things Bucky remembered. He remembered Steve, who he was, what he felt but he couldn’t pinpoint exact memories, exact reasons why he felt as he did. At times, Bucky would rage. Steve would hear the soft thump of a pillow against the door or the loud sounds of something being kicked over and over again. Steve had given up his bed for Bucky and had instead decided to sleep on the couch.

It became a routine for them. Every morning, Steve would wake up first and go to the gym. He would work out for longer and longer, knowing he would have to go back to that apartment and face the emptiness in Bucky’s eyes. He could see that Bucky felt something for him, recognized him but his memories were fuzzy at best and at worst, he was scared to be in Steve’s orbit. Every time Steve moved closer, he moved away, instinctively. Steve would come back and shower and change. Then he’d make coffee and breakfast the way Bucky liked it and would leave it on the counter. Bucky would eventually slip out, taking the food and sitting at the dining table while Steve sat on the couch. They hardly spoke except a few words here and there.

Shuri had said this might happen. The process to get Bucky’s brain back, to allow him to be himself again erased a few key memories and moments.The memories might come back and try as he might, Steve’s hope waned each day. Today he slipped back into the apartment, sweat sticking his hair to his face. He had tried several times to jog Bucky’s memory, walking around in his old war uniform or his Captain America outfit. Every time, Bucky looked at him as if he lost his mind and would retreat into the bedroom.

 _At least he isn’t breaking anything._ Steve thought as he opened the door and then locked it behind him. Sunlight streamed into the windows, giving the cold room a cheer that Steve didn’t feel. Steve had had rage but had kept it hidden. Sometimes he punched punching bags too hard after he’d awoken, his mind swimming with memories. Other times he’d break a glass or a piece of silverware in his grip and would quickly hide it away. Steve Rogers, Captain America, whoever he was now, he was meant to be someone who was in control.

Inside, he was screaming to be allowed to rage as well. He remembered arguing with Bucky about going to war and the anger he felt when Bucky didn’t _get it._ The overwhelming need to fight for his country and not sit back and let others do the work for him. That rage boiled up now, the fact that he looked at Bucky and didn’t see his best friend. He saw his face, framed by his dark hair and wanted to push it back but was too scared to touch him. The man who stood in front of him was one that he had loved and wanted for so long but that was inaccessible to him. He wanted to scream and throw things and rage against the world for causing them this much pain and heartache. Didn’t they deserve a break?

Steve was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Bucky standing behind him, watching Steve walk down the hallway to the bathroom. Bucky had seen the red rim of Steve’s eyes and wondered why the man would cry or feel the need to cry. It’s not like Bucky was important to him. The sight of Steve’s back jolted him though.

The gray shirt Steve had on was stuck to his back from sweat and clung to him like a second skin. Bucky moved out into the hallway and came up behind him. He hesitated before reaching out and putting a hand on Steve’s back. Steve turned, jumping at the contact and tensing. Years of pain and the trauma of war caused him to be on high alert, even in safety.

When he saw Bucky standing in front of him, he relaxed only a little. “Sorry. I’ll get your breakfast in a minute I just need a shower.”

Steve turned to walk into the bathroom and Bucky’s hand contracted on the back of the shirt. It wrinkled in his hand and he saw Steve turn to look at him again. That face swims in front of Bucky’s and he can’t help but stare as some memories come back, fuzzy at the edges. “Strip.” The words were rough coming from his throat.

“I…I’m sorry?” Steve asked, turning to look at Bucky with a puzzled expression.

“Strip. Please.” The word was thrown in, an extra plea for Steve to do something that Bucky asked for once in his life.

The shirt slipped over Steve’s head as he yanked it off and let it dangle from his hand. He looked confused and worried and he turns fully to look at Bucky as Bucky reached up and pressed his hand against Steve’s chest.

His chest was warm from the workout and Bucky felt panic shoot through him. Memories fly back at him. Steve sitting on the couch wheezing, Steve coughing, Steve being too hot, Steve, Steve, Steve. The memories crash into him like a tidal wave. The relief of knowing that Steve couldn’t go to war, couldn’t get killed. Remembering that he left to keep Steve safe. Words dying on his lips as he saluted Steve and thinking this would be the last time he saw him and could tell him he loved him yet stayed silent.

Torture and waking up to the newly chiseled face of his childhood best friend. Walking into camp and seeing Steve happy with Peggy, his heart breaking and mending to know he was in love. Steve’s panicked face as he fell. The pain of the loss of an arm and years and years of brain washing, forced to do someone else’s bidding. Steve’s face on the bridge and his mind kept screaming he knew him but couldn’t figure out why. Steve finding him and protecting him, taking him to this place and now Steve standing here. His skin was hot and sweaty, and he had taken care of Bucky.

The shell of his best friend, Steve had stood by Bucky and taken care of him despite the pain it obviously caused. Bucky gasped, his fingers twitching on Steve’s chest and over his heart. That heartbeat he had checked so many times when Steve was sick, and Bucky prayed, something he hardly ever did, that Steve would live.

“Bucky?” Steve stepped forward, a hand coming up to rest over Bucky’s.

Tears sprung to Bucky’s eyes, making them shine a bright blue. He stepped forward, throwing his arms around Steve’s back and crushed him to his chest. Bucky’s heart was beating fast and he could feel Steve’s own heart hammering away. “Steve.” He whispered.

A gasp escaped from Steve’s lips and Bucky felt tears hit his shoulder as Steve buried his face into the area between Bucky’s shoulder and neck. They weren’t sure how long they stood in this embrace, tears streaming down their faces. It was unclear when they broke apart, so Steve could shower and change. For the first time in weeks, they ate together and talked. They talked as they used to and all they could do was thank whatever higher power there was that they were together.

That night, Steve slipped into bed next to Bucky. The room was dark, and the bed was too soft, but it felt safe, like home. It felt right as Steve pulled Bucky towards him and kissed him in the darkness. The kiss was hesitant and slow, the two of them relishing in the fact that after all this time they had found a way to be together. They fell asleep, hands intertwined and hearts beating together.


End file.
